In Pursuit of a Princess

Lara nodded. “She did, Malcolm. Thank you for going after her.”

He nodded, then left as silently as he’d come. Odd that Malcolm hadn’t even questioned her acceptance of Deidre’s return. Usually, the man was full of questions. But then, this whole affair had taken on a strangeness that didn’t set well with Lara. Not a good way to start out her time here in New Orleans.

Lara took a deep, settling breath. “And as for you, Gabriel Murdock—”

Gabriel moved toward her like a panther stalking a dove. “You can’t be serious. Do you actually believe her?”

“Yes, I certainly do. She’s young and afraid and confused. I believe she got scared out of her wits and wanted to go home to her family in Europe. Sometimes, we all just want to go home.”

He stared down at her and nodded, his expression changing to something less forceful. “Am I still on this assignment, Princess?”

She thought about that long and hard, and then she nodded. “Of course. We’re all a little fatigued and on edge. I appreciate you being so diligent, but you need to remember you are not here to do any investigative journalism. You’re only here to do an in-depth study on me. A factual, enlightening study to showcase my work here in New Orleans. Do I make myself clear?”

He leaned close, the scent of something spicy and masculine surrounding him. “Very clear, Princess. I’ll report what I see and I’ll write what I know to be true. But you have to know—this threat is not over.” He hesitated, then rushed ahead. “And you also have to know that I won’t stand by and watch if I think something is about to happen to you.”

She grabbed at her pearls and inclined her head, hoping to distract herself from the way this man seemed to have a natural need to protect her. Maybe that was just the way he was wired, but his actions were somewhat confusing. “We’re all aware now. We’ll watch and wait, and I’m sure between Malcolm and the police, this will soon end.”

He moved toward his equipment bags. “Then let’s get started with your day.”

Lara cleared her mind and tried to focus on the many tasks at hand. But she couldn’t get past Gabriel’s suggestion that Deidre wasn’t being honest.

Especially when she’d noticed how strange her assistant had been acting lately. Was Deidre scared because of all the unsettling things happening around here? Or did the other woman actually know who was behind this?

* * *

Gabriel took another shot, from a different angle. The afternoon sun glistened off of Lake Pontchartrain and cast a golden shimmer around the woman in the stark white sundress.

Lara Kincade was in PR mode. This press conference would announce her intentions of building more Kincade houses in one of the disaster-stricken wards of New Orleans. With the lake behind her and most of the Louisiana press before her, Lara commanded the mike space with a regal elegance.

He wanted to capture that elegance.

So he snapped away with two different cameras and several lenses. He caught her smiling softly. He captured her with a hand lifted in the air, her diamond solitaire a signal that while she might be alone, she still held her marriage as sacred.

“And so, I’m happy to announce that I have a team of contractors and carpenters on standby to finish the work my husband started. I’m very excited and blessed to be able to be a part of this important recovery phase for the city of New Orleans.”

After a round of applause, Deidre—wide-awake and back in control—stepped to the mike. “And now Her Royal Highness will be happy to take your questions.”

Everyone started talking at once. Out of habit, Gabriel turned to snap a few pictures of the crowd. It never hurt to record anything that might become history. It never hurt to get faces that might become assets or foes later, either.

Or in this case, help him to protect the princess even more—the princess who didn’t want to be protected. The woman was a walking target, but she had a job to do. He had to admire her fortitude. But he was also grateful for Malcolm and his expert security team. And having pictures of the crowd could serve as backup later. If anything else happened.

Gabriel had a feeling something else would happen. And soon. With art worth millions hanging around, and a highly visible princess taking up residence in the city, New Orleans was abuzz with intent. Some of it good and some of it bad.

He watched Deidre, too. The girl who’d been so rattled this morning now seemed as polished and cultured as a fresh pearl. Not the same girl who’d cried and played coy earlier. She’d appeared after lunch and just in time for the press conference that Lara had refused to cancel. What was the story with that one, anyway? He could always do a background check on her later, on his own time.

But right now he had to keep at the subject at hand.

He snapped away, his methods unobtrusive, and managed to get some candid shots of both the princess and Deidre.

“How long do you plan to be in New Orleans, Princess Lara?”

“As long as it takes.”

“Are you staying in the Garden District?”

“I’m here and there.”

“Why do you think it’s so important to rebuild houses here?”

“Why wouldn’t it be important? We can’t have a fabulous city without people to contribute. And we can’t bring people back unless they have houses in which to live.”

“What about the Benoit?”

That caught Gabriel’s attention. He whirled to see who’d asked that question. Snapping away, he caught the man’s image in his pictures. Then he turned back to the princess. And saw her skin had gone pale.

“What about the Benoit?”

“We hear you’re having a gala in the Quarter, a private affair with a very high ticket price. Is that because you want to show off the Benoit?”

“I hope to have a nice evening with invited guests. It’s not about showing off. We picked that venue because it allows us to spill out into Jackson Square and it has a nice garden out back. But this event is about raising more money to help our cause.”

The man nodded but looked skeptical and a bit angry.

Bingo. Gabriel’s gut churned and he stopped taking pictures so he could study the reporter who’d asked that question. The man looked to be in his mid-thirties, with dark, straight hair and stark, almost black eyes. Was he really a reporter? Or a plant? Part of a team?

Gabriel would have to get his editor to access face-recognition technology and run a search online to find out about the man’s credentials. And he could certainly enlarge the picture he’d snapped to see what the man’s press badge said.

“Thank you all for your time,” Lara said, clearly tired and a bit unnerved by the mention of the Benoit. “I so appreciate all of you coming today. But we have a very busy schedule.”

Only Reporter Man wasn’t finished. “What about the trouble at your Garden District home this morning?”

Lara looked shocked, but she lifted that noble chin and stared the man down. “I have no further comments.”

Deidre stepped up to give instructions on where and when the construction would start. They’d need the press there to make sure they got even more coverage. But they would not be answering any more questions right now. Before she left the stage, the girl glared at the intrusive reporter.

Lara stepped down from the podium and met Gabriel behind the portable stage. “Don’t even say it,” she whispered as she moved by him.

He hurried to catch up with her. “Say what?”

“You know exactly what.” She waited for the driver to open the door of the sleek black SUV. “That man asked about the Benoit. And he knows something is going on, obviously.”

“Yes.” Gabriel slid in beside her while Deidre got up front with the driver. “So?”

Lara gave him a quizzical glance. “I guess you wouldn’t know.”

“Know what?” Gabriel waited, wondering what else he didn’t know.

“I haven’t mentioned the Benoit to anyone. The press, I mean. The gala reception is supposed to be a private event and we haven’t published it a lot. Only the people on the guest list know that the Benoit will be on display during the party.”